


It's time for us

by kaleidxscope



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-13 00:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12971313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaleidxscope/pseuds/kaleidxscope
Summary: “What are we?” Isak asks, looking up at Even from behind his eyelashes. Even's frowning like he hasn’t heard Isak. Maybe he hasn’t with how low his voice was. “If we’re not best friends, what are we?”[...]“So we’re just Isak and Even?”“We’re just Isak and Even.”





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS ROSE!!
> 
> Do you have any idea how happy made me the web when I saw you name on it? I love you so much, you're an amazing person and I'm honestly so happy that I've met you. Thank you so much for not only the server but also for being an amazing friend. You rock girl!!
> 
> I hope you like this!
> 
> Also, a big thank you for [Mack](http://archiveofourown.org/users/EvensDramaticShenanigans) and [Varshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahana) who betaed this and helped me when I struggled
> 
> All the titles are from [Cold Night – You Me At Six](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SuAjdZJbjGo)

The first time it happens they’re so drunk and happy it doesn’t feel weird. Or it does, but just for a second before one of them leans again towards the other. Who initiated it doesn’t really matter. They met halfway. It is a party—they don’t have to think about it, they are celebrating.

 

It’s Isak’s first year in college and he’s feeling on top of the world. He’s studying Biology, he’s close enough with his mother to call her every week and text a bit on his free days. He’s never felt so free with all the aspects of his life, never been more happy of being himself (and, spoiler, he's really delighted with being gay and not in a closet). He has a lot of _really_ good, friends and what’s even better: his favourite person in the world lives right across the corridor.

But let's go back a couple of years to Isak’s second year in Nissen – _The Year_ , as he likes to call it – before his friends started teasing him for being overdramatic. Maybe he is, just a bit, but he deserves to act dramatic if he wants to, and Even will always speak up for him and say he's not (no one needs to know that though. Compared to Even, nobody's ever even _slightly_ dramatic).

It started with Kosegruppa (bless Vilde for that) and Sana’s blackmail (well, _same_ ) about the boy’s weed. They all _had_ to show up at the first meeting and damn if they did—no one had the guts to say no to Sana Bakkoush. Once they were there, she was the one who introduced _the new guy_ : blonde, extremely tall, big blue eyes, smooth-tongued, with a jean jacket. He looked exactly like James Dean. If it had been any other person, Isak would have complained about them not being there to babysit the new guy. But _that_ guy. _Damn_.

Even was his name, and he had transferred there from Bakka. And another thing Isak learned about Even that same day was that he wasn’t, in fact, nearly as cool as he looked.

It’s okay though, he got along pretty fast with the boys. They began eating lunch together every single day, since Even didn’t know anyone else apart from Sana and she was always with the girls (but Magnus liked to say it was because they were the best option). Call it what you want, but they were five since that moment. However, that  only lasted a month or so. Then, they were ten and that was a big deal. Even’s friends from Bakka (no longer attending said school, but it was the easiest way to refer to them at the beginning) were even dorkier than Isak’s friends themselves:

There was Adam, who Isak wasn’t too sure was as cool as he tried to make them think he was—always with a bad joke on his tongue and a spinner, until Magnus lost it (the biggest betrayal of their group).

Mikael was Jonas’s favourite, probably, and Isak would have been jealous if it weren’t for the fact that he saved them all from rants about Capitalism and religion (and Isak was sure, Even’s friends were glad too).

The most responsible of them all was Yousef, labeled _the dad_ by Elias, he had a soft spot for Even and the weirdest looks reserved for Isak at the beginning.

And Elias—well, he was their personal Bakkoush, as loyal as his sister but more lazy, carefree, and cheerful. Isak really liked him, especially when he got on Sana’s nerves more than Isak did.

Of course, last but not least (never least) was Mutta, the nerdiest of them all, but in the best way. Isak became very fond of him, and it was always good to rant with him about science when Isak got a bit high.

Isak’s friends and Even’s friends bonded quickly over parties and lazy Sundays with aggressive FIFA tournaments that usually ended with Elias or Isak as the winners—Even and Magnus always the first ones getting out of the competition.

But there was always a constant in the middle, and the truth is that between newly found friendships, laughs, and jokes, Isak and Even grew closer than either of them could have assumed.

Maybe it was because Even seemed to like him better even if he wouldn't say it out loud (no one wanted to see Magnus upset). He always seemed to laugh a little louder when Isak was the one telling the joke, smile a little wider when he was the one talking. Or maybe it was easier—simple as that—because they took the same tram after classes and their flats were closer. Isak didn't—still doesn't actually—know what Even's reasons were but he was sure about his: there was no one brighter than Even Bech Næsheim.

He liked Even; he liked him a lot. He was passionate and loud, yet quiet and smooth. He wasn’t ashamed of the things he liked, the things he loved, and he would defend them with such courage and fervor, there was no way the person talking to him didn’t become curious about the subject. Sometimes Isak wished Even would talk about him like that, with his eyes becoming bigger and more intense, piercing and genuine, as he talked. Or when they were barely visible because what he was talking about made him smile so large. If Isak didn’t know better he would have put his hand on the fire and said Even’s smile could save lives.

They shared a taste in music, as he discovered one day when Even invited him over to his place. Even though Even would never stop to joke about how he tried to _impress_ him by stating he totally knew who NAS was when, in fact, it had been the first time Isak had listened that name. It was an inside joke, just like the one they created about cardamom and, according to Isak, Even’s lack of culinary skills (hey, if he secretly enjoyed himself every time they ate together, no one needed to know). Sometimes, Isak even joked that the only reason he put up with Even was so he would buy them alcohol. What he never said out loud was that he also liked him for shooing Emma away every time they bumped into her at a party. It wasn’t something he could say to the world yet, but Even seemed to know he didn’t want anything to do with her. And bless him, honestly.

All the boys became even closer when Even broke up with his long-term girlfriend (Sonja, a lovely girl Isak only met once or twice) and was a mess for almost a month. They all wanted to cheer him up so both groups of boys started to plan things for him, starting with watching pretentious movies (not that Mikael minded at all) and ending with baking his favourites desserts for him. They even spent countless evenings chilling in Elias's backyard, talking about anything and everything. But sometimes, Even just needed time to himself and Isak understood that, he really did. What surprised Isak, though, was the first time Even asked him to join him during one of his late nights. It was nearly December and they both cried their eyes out.

Even told him about being bipolar—how it scared the hell out of him sometimes not knowing what was going on in his own mind.He told him about how Sonja was, for so long, his main support and she used to prevent Even from isolating himself and losing the boys for good. He told Isak about how he sometimes felt like he was on top of the world and the next like he was in the deepest pit, and how he just needed control in his life. But Sonja and him grew apart for that very reason. He told Isak how sometimes he couldn’t help but think that people only put up with him. A charity case, he called himself. He told Isak about what went down at Bakka—how he had tried to kiss Yousef and how embarrassed he was after that, how he blamed himself for all the doubts Yousef had with religion, how he just wanted to disappear, for the Earth to swallow him whole.

And Isak tried really hard not to cry, but he couldn’t bear watching as the person he adored and idolized so much broke down in front of him like that, pouring his soul into the cold air. So he hugged him and told him how he didn’t think Even was a charity case, how he was wonderful and strong, _so fucking strong_. He told him about how happy it made him that he trusted him enough and how he would be by his side for as long as Even would put up with his grumpiness and lame jokes. Even laughed, and Isak’s heart probably knew it in that very moment.

As the night grew colder and darker, Isak asked him more. He wanted to know whatever  Even wanted to tell him. He ended up telling Even about how his own mother was sick as well and he had left her almost a year ago because it got too much; about how he went back that summer because he missed her and he couldn’t bear the idea of her being all by herself. He told Even how she was getting better but it wasn’t always easy, how much he loved her anyway, and how he would never wish for another woman to be his mom.

That night they had a sleepover at the Kollectiv because they felt like it. They had frozen pizza and blankets spread out across the cold floor, but there was nothing but warmth in their hearts.

A week later, Isak told him what no one else knew about him, what sometimes even _he_ had a hard time knowing. He told Even, not because he felt obligated to, but because he knew he could trust him with his heart, even though he always hoped Jonas would be the first one. Having Even be the first to hear out loud _I don’t think I like girls, I’m not sure I’ve ever liked them at all_ felt like he was reborn, only much freer this time  The utter happiness on Even's face—the way his eyes shone and his teeth peeked out—made Isak's heart grow in his chest. He almost felt like his own body wasn't big enough for him anymore—but it didn't hurt. _It didn’t hurt anymore._

Jonas was the second person to know  it. It happened over kebabs right before the first snow of the year in a park they used to go to as kids. It was a bit messy, a bit playful, a guessing game, only interrupted by a sudden onslaught of snow that had them running for cover. When they were safely sat under an old tram stop, his best friend said the words Isak didn't know he needed to hear, for so long. A simple _you know I'm proud of you and I love you no matter what, right?_ Isak didn't cry that time, not with his eyes anyway. But he hugged Jonas tightly and Jonas held onto him just as tight, and he knew both their hearts were probably sobbing and laughing like idiots.

A month later, when 2016 was about to end and Isak was ready to call it _a year_ , he did two things. First, he sent his mother a message, coming out to her – telling her that, no matter what, he would always love her. No matter what. And second, without letting himself think much about what he just sent, he made his first New Year's Resolution. Or rather, he let himself have it, because truth be told, Isak wrote it down on a badly cut sheet of paper, with messy calligraphy. He still had it. It's still sitting exactly where he tucked it away in his wallet. He could practically feel it in the back pocket of his slacks.

_Be fucking real._

He didn’t take it out, he didn’t need to read it again, the words already tattooed on his mind. He breathed. In and out—again and again. Until Even locked eyes with him, a single eyebrow lifting to ask him what’s going on, if he needed to leave. Isak knew he’d do it, without blinking—Even would leave the party if Isak were to ask. That calmed him a bit, enough to nod and grab his glass of champagne and tap on it with his key to make a toast

If someone were to ask him now what he could recall from that night, he would say _not much_ and he wouldn’t be lying. He remembers the joy, how he had started crying after the first person (was it Eva or Sana?) hugged him; how Even stepped aside to let the rest of their friends have their moment with Isak but how he was still looking at him, smile so wide his eyes were almost closed.

Maybe coming out wasn’t a magical solution to all his problems, but it was a start. Then, just barely a minute before midnight, his phone chimed with a text from his mother in which she said that, no matter what, Isak would always be her little lamb and that she would love him and choose him too all over again.

Maybe 2017 would be His Year.

With his resolution still fresh, a lot of things happened. The hate that lingered in the eyes that followed him—because apparently Emma was wrong when she said that 2016 was a pretty nice year to come out of the closet—the whispers at his back, the boys (maybe that was the part Isak enjoyed the most) and the heartbreak that came with them.

Julian Dahl.The man, the myth, the legend. The _fucker_ , as Even called him when he broke Isak’s heart by cheating on him after two months seeing each other. And yeah, _maybe_ , Isak wasn’t _so_ head over heels for him, but it still hurt that the first boy he was comfortable enough  to try with was such an asshole in the end. Maybe it was a relationship that both of them found themselves rushing into, with no prior notice or warning.

A few months later, Isak got over him and decided he wanted to see what was out there. Even was there to make sure Isak understood that Julian was a cheating asshole and that he deserved nice things.

March came with one of the biggest changes in Isak’s life, after Noora decided to finally leave William—honestly, everyone and their dog were waiting for it. He decided that it was time to return the bedroom he’d been using to its rightful owner and go home. In the end, maybe Noora’s return wasn’t that big of a factor in his decision, but it surely was the last push he needed.

And things were good.

So far so good. The rest of his second year was pretty much uneventful, once he and his mother figured out how to live together again. Jonas spent some weekends around and Marianne still loved him the most—or she did until she met Isak's new friend. Let’s just say Isak never got to witness a more embarrassing fight over his mamma in his whole life. But in the end, Even’s pasta did the trick (Marianne still treated Jonas as if he was Isak’s brother anyway, and that was something Even never got to feel—neither of them seemed to mind though).

The worst day from that year was probably Even’s prom. Everyone was there—both groups of boys, Sana and the rest of the girls, and his parents. Everyone shed a tear or two after seeing Even’s smile and shiny eyes. After everything Even had to go through, he still made it—he still got his high school diploma and a month later came the acceptance letter that made it possible for him to pursue his degree in Digital Electronic Art came.

That summer they all went to the beach to celebrate Even’s last year of high school and the fact that Isak and the others would be in the same position not even a year later (or that was the plan). It was probably one of the best summers of Isak’s life. He loved it so much that he felt like crying—and maybe when Even told him that the fact that he was going to college didn’t change a thing and he would still nagging Isak made it a little harder to keep his cheek dry.

It was _hard_ not having one of his best friends every single day waiting for him on the canteen or after classes to head home together. But Even kept his promise, was always true to his words.

A lot of things happened during Isak’s third and last year in high school. First of all, the _relationships._ He was sure there was no way almost all of his friends could have found love at the same time. But Eva and Jonas got back together (and if Isak was embarrassed when he confessed to his best friend about their first year, no one needed to know) and—fucking finally—Sana and Yousef started dating too. Isak, as Sana’s self-proclaimed best bud, got to know a lot about her insecurities in the relationship but, nevertheless, she wanted to give it a try and Isak was there to support her (also the fact that since Isak came out Yousef seemed to like him better was too amusing to not tease them).

The only thing he probably expected even less was Vilde and Magnus breaking up. Or maybe not. Maybe that was something all of them knew was only a matter of time. But when Vilde came out  as lesbian during the Easter holidays, Isak was filled with pride and happiness for her. Maybe she wasn’t as annoying as he thought, after all. And maybe that was the first day of one of the more beautiful friendships he’s ever got.

In June, he nearly cried when he got confirmation that in less than three months he would be studying biology at UiO. _Biology!_ Everyone congratulated him, his mother even posted it on Facebook and his father (who was trying and failing) used the news as an excuse to have dinner with him. It didn’t matter, because with the college’s letter also came the confirmation the he would be sharing a dorm with Even. Isak was happy. _So damn happy_. As happy as he could ever be.

Or not. Because a week before the start of classes, when his room was and when he checked the number with Even, it became clear that they would be living right in front of each other. And Isak could cry, if it wasn’t because they were busy getting shit faced.

 

And now… well, now he’s fucking hungover. He doesn’t remember feeling this bad in a long long time. His head is pounding, his limbs are sore, and his mouth tastes like rat poison. Not that he knew what it even tasted like – he just assumed. _Fuck_ , why did he have to drink so much yesterday, again?

_Right, college. What an amazing start._

His phone goes off before he fall further down the black hole of self-pity. He searches for it on his bedside table only to realize that the sound is coming from the floor, instead. When he manages to find it, he notices that the ringtone has already gone off three times and he hurries to accept the call, not even checking who it is.

“What?”

“Wow, good morning you too.”

Jonas’s voice is cheerful enough to make him realize it might be past noon—there’s no way his best friend can be so loud after a night out. Or maybe that’s just him.

“Morning,” he mumbles, rubbing his face with his free hand, “is it important? I was sleeping.” His voice is muffled by the pillow—he’s definitely not a loud person in the morning, even less when he’s laying on his side with the phone safely tucked between his ear and the pillow.

“Kind of. Open the door, I have coffee.”

“You are at my door?” He nearly shouts, and that’s what makes him jolt out of bed. Jonas just chuckles on the other end of the line and the noise his steps make on the old staircase are answer enough for Isak to know that he’ll be there any minute now.

“Who even are you? Why do you hate me so much?” He continues his questions, juggling the phone between his ear and shoulder, sweatpants around his knees.  “Can’t you just knock on the door across the hall and bother Even instead?”

After that, Jonas’s chuckle die so maybe that’s not the best option. “I don’t think you want me to talk to Even about what I want to talk to you about, man.” He hears his best friend’s voice behind the door more than on the phone and before he can knock, Isak is already opening the door to let him in.

“Why not?” Isak asks and receives a to-go cup filled with warm coffee as an answer. Hangovers and coffee don't mix well for Isak, but he loves coffee too much not to take a long sip right away as his best friend kicks off his shoes and makes a beeline towards the unmade bed. “Well? Are you deaf? Mute? Has your hair already taken root in your brain?”

_Damn,_ that is a good one. Why isn’t anyone near them when he says the coolest things?

Jonas takes a slow sip from his own coffee, purses his lips, and only after what seems like an eternity, decides to speak: “Issy, how much do you remember from last night?” He’s so cautious with his words, his tone careful, as though he were speaking to a child. Isak starts to think he killed someone last night.

“Uh, everything? I wasn’t that–” Then it hits him.

Well, fuck.

He didn’t kill anyone. He just kissed the boy next door. His other best friend.

He kissed Even Bech Næsheim.

On the lips. With tongue. With so much tongue.

And sue him, it was _hot_.


	2. I knew the moment I met you, I could never lose you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part is here! I hope you like it, Rose ♥
> 
> As always, the biggest thank you to [Mack](http://archiveofourown.org/users/EvensDramaticShenanigans) for betaing this and helping me so much with all the details and parts I was stuck with. You're awesome!!

There are three things Isak learns after having kissed Even on the lips.

First of all, his friends won’t let it go that easily: first it’s Jonas, the morning after it all happened, and he’s calm about it, telling him that yes, they all saw it and they’re the topic of the group chat but no one has spoken to Even yet. Then it’s Mutta, on Friday, the first day of classes (because bless his soul he decided to take his biology class that semester) and he adds the _big_ question: are they now a thing? (just to make it clear, Isak is quickly to say _what? no!_ because it’s absurd and the red on his cheeks is due to the fact they’re still in summer).

Second, he can’t talk about it with Even even though everyone knows all of them are talking to each other about it. But it’s just weird, isn’t it? How could he bring up the topic anyway? _Hey, Even, remember that time we were totally drunk off our asses and we made out? It was hot, right? Well, see you later bro!_ Not that he has thought about it, not at all.

Which leads us to the third thing, because Isak in fact has thought _a lot_ about that kiss. He has replayed it on his mind so many times it’s even uncomfortable to look Even in the eyes. He’s definitely not having weird sex dreams about one of his best friends, but it’s surely something the fact that everytime they eat together he is mesmerized by Even’s lips. Even’s soft, soft lips. Even’s soft lips _on_ Isak’s–

“Earth calling Isak, are you there?” It feels like the voice is far away from him, but when he shakes his head he focuses again and no, the voice just left those lips (shit, he’s not going there again). Lips attached to his best friend who is currently chuckling at him. “You okay there, buddy? Have you slept at all?”

“Yeah, it’s just… this paper I have and, yeah. You know,” he mumbles, looking at his own food—because right, that’s another thing, they’re in the cantine—because he knows he can’t lie while looking Even in the eyes.

“I _know_ there’s no way you already have papers on your third week on college,” Even says, successfully calling him out but he doesn’t insist, doesn’t try to make Isak spill out what he was really thinking about. And Isak is thankful for that. “What I do know is that tonight there’s a party and Jonas said that a certain someone is going.” Even’s smile turns devilicious and he quirks his eyebrows up until they met his hairline. “Someone called Mads?”

 _Fuck_. He definitely shouldn’t have told the guys about Mads.

Even is already rambling about if Mads is his real name or a diminutive and if he’s ugly because Isak has never showed him a single picture when Isak decides is time to go deeper into this. “He’s just some guy in my Introduction to Microbes lecture,” he says, shrugging and taking a bite of his sandwich before continuing. “Not a big deal, honestly. I mean, yeah he’s hot but it won’t be the end of the world if he’s straight or doesn’t like me.”

It should be— _it is_ —gross to speak while having his mouth full and Even makes sure he knows this doing a grimace before shaking his head, but they both know Isak is a lost cause when it comes to manners so he doesn’t bother saying anything, just takes a bite of his own food. And like the perfect gentleman he is, he waits until he has swallowed everything to speak again.

“So you’re totally not looking to hook up with him?” He asks and that’s another thing Isak is grateful for: he doesn’t tease him like the rest of the boys do. “I mean, if you want I could endure the enormous effort it takes to stop by your room before the pregame and help you with… _you._ ” He moves his hand around Isak’s whole face before looking down his body and faking a grimace.

Isak scoffs at that, his eyes going wide and he has to let the remains on his sandwich on the plate to do what comes next. And listen, if Even is being dramatic, Isak can be it too.

“Are you talking about _me_ ?” Isak asks, his hands on his own chest. “What’s wrong with my face, huh? Don’t you know _angel curls_ it’s the new fashion? Honestly, how dare you imply I’m not looking gorgeous and–” He has to stop when Even starts laughing so hard a couple of girls in the nearby tables look at them like they are high. It’s contagious—and mesmerizing—the way he laughs, his head thrown back, exposing his neck, the way his chest is rising and falling with every sound he emits. Isak licks his lips, hands still halfway through his chest and his hair covered by a red hat; he tries not to smile, to keep going, but then Even looks at him, his eyes barely a thin line of white, blue and black.

So, of course, Isak starts to laugh, too.

 

Later, when he’s getting ready for the night out (and after having convinced Even he doesn’t need his help to look hot) he sits on his bed to think about what’s going to happen next. Sure, Mads is actually hot and Isak is quite positive about him being into guys—call it _gaydar_ or the fact that he has been flirting with him for over a week now—so it should be an easy hook up. A way to start his college life (and to ignore the fact that his first kiss while being a university student was with Even). So why the fuck can’t he bring himself to be a bit more excited about it.

He still has one shoe left to put when there’s a knock on the door. “It’s open!” He calls, already suspecting who could it be. When Even and his jean jacket appear behind the door (because who else could it be) Isak smiles as a greeting. “Hey, are you ready? Don’t you need to do your hair for the trillionth time?” he asks, earning himself an eye roll.

“So funny. I’ve already done it. And don’t you dare say it needs a check,” he warns, index finger pointing towards Isak and eyes squinted. The posture only last two seconds before he’s plopping down on Isak’s bed, hands behind his head and looking Isak from head to toes. “You’re missing one shoe.” And then it’s him who wins an eye roll.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Isak replies, snorting and finishing the task at hand before getting up and turning around so Even can get a better look at him. He’s wearing a pair of ripped jeans, white t-shirt and a dark plain shirt over it, black sneakers and his favourite snapback, backwards. “So? What do you think? Do I have your _magic_ permission to go out now or are you going to make me dress again?” He asks, chuckling all the time and when he finishes he’s facing Even again. And the sight makes his heart hurt in the best of the ways.

Even is now sitting on the bed, hands supporting his weight over the mattress. His eyes are a little wider, his mouth a bit agape, a single blonde lock of his fringe falling over his forehead, his Adam's apple blobbing when he swallows. And Isak is just a couple of seconds away from looking the same. But, for better or for worse, Even decides to recompose himself and clear his throat. And suddenly, the spell is broken and Isak doesn’t know if the look on Even’s face was there at all or was just a projection of his own thoughts.

“You look like shit,” Even deadpans, nodding along his words like he’s trying to convince himself, and Isak rolls his eyes. Of course he would say something like that, who are they trying to kid? “But we don’t have time for you to go through the ridiculous amount of clothes you have, so this will have to do the trick for Mads.” He shrugs, getting up and walking to Isak until they are so close, Isak has to look up to properly look at him.

It becomes a little difficult to breathe and he has never been of the claustrophobic type. He suspects what it is, but he’s so fucking sure he doesn’t want to admit it. It was nothing, it _is_ nothing. It’s just his best friend, playing along with some joke Isak hasn’t caught yet.

Maybe this is how they have always been. Touchy. Maybe there has always been this affection between them, the closeness only a lot of time and shared secrets can give you—they surely have both. And if Isak is honest with himself, he can’t recall a time when they weren’t truly themselves around the other. No bullshit, no walls, no pretending. Just them. And the kindness. It feels like the same old feeling.

So why does it also feels like something totally new?

“But this stays here,” Even adds, gently taking Isak’s snapback from his head and throwing it into the bed. Then, he cards a hand through Isak’s hair, making it look messy, or maybe just getting rid of the hat hair he surely has. He’s not sure. What he knows is that he has to actually fight to make his eyes stay open the whole time and not to lean into the touch.

After a couple more seconds, Even smiles until his eyes crinkle and steps back, pointing to the door with his head. “Let’s go.”

 

When the clock hits midnight, the party is at its fullest, sweaty bodies dancing around each other, alcohol on the floor (Isak is truly sorry for whoever is going to have to clean the mess in the morning), smoke – most likely because of weed, if the smell is anything to go by – filling the air. And Isak is on his fifth beer already, a bit drunk, a bit clingy, a bit _flirty._

He’s standing in front of a gorgeous boy, a bit taller than Isak but he’s sitting on the arm chair of a sofa full with couples making out, so he’s towering over him, leaning into him so he can whisper on his ear, have a better look at his soft blonde hair, the way he keeps licking his lips and blushing after Isak tells him how much he likes him tonight. Or everyday, for that matter.

Isak leans back just the tiniest bit so he can take a new sip, finishing off his beer, he twists his upper body to be able to leave the empty can on the coffee table, stumbling over his own feet. The only thing giving him balance again are two strong hands on his hips. Isak looks at the boy, gratefully smiling – or maybe smirking.

“I think you've had enough,” he says, leaning forward until he reaches Isak’s ear sending a shiver through his body and making him want to squirm in the best of ways. He has a _hot_ voice: calm, deep, confident. He could easily be one of Isak’s wettest dreams. Maybe he is.

He puts his hand around the boy’s shoulders, leaning even more into him and shifting his weight from foot to foot just to rub his legs with the one between them. “You are not trying to get me drunk? I thought that was what we were doing here. Did I not get the memo?” Isak asks, feigning innocence and doubt in his voice but he’s sure the smile on his lips and the way he messes his blonde hair is more than enough prove to incriminate him.

“I don’t want you to get _too_ drunk or I wouldn’t do this,” he whispers and just like that kisses Isak on the lips.

It’s nice. Nice and wet and hot and slow and a bit desperate. It’s a lot more than Isak thought it would be. Soft lips on his, a tongue licking at his mouth like it’s trying to prove a point to his own. He’s going a bit breathless and when he’s about to change the angle so he can grab a mouthful of air, he decides it’s a good idea to open his eyes. That’s what pushes out of his lungs the air he still has there.

Across the room there’s Even, looking directly at him with an indecipherable look in his face, Isak would almost think Even’s not looking in his direction and just has that clouded lost gaze he has when he disconnects from the outside. He almost _wants_ to think it’s the case. Maybe he’s just bored, tired of the party, a bit drunk. Maybe he hasn’t seen him. But not after even a second later, he locks eyes with Isak and smiles, raising his eyebrows until they meet his hairline and nodding toward Mads.

 _Right, Mads._ Because Isak is kissing Mads, who has nice but chapped lips, golden hair a couple of shades darker than Even’s, strong callous hands and soft brown eyes. And a tongue trying to get Isak’s to move again. A tongue that is feeling more and more like a lump in his mouth rather than a turn on.

Suddenly the kiss doesn’t feel as nice as before and he’s just two seconds away from breaking it but then Even frowns that look on his face asking him is he’s okay, if he needs him. Maybe he does.

But he can’t.

So he closes his eyes again and changes the angle and focuses on the hands on his hips and the locks of hair in his hands and kisses and kisses and kisses. Until he feels the wetness in his mouth, until he remembers that Mads is nice and hot and he likes the way he talks and looks at him in classes. Until he draws out of his mind the image of Even. Even’s face and eyes and lips and hands.

He kisses Mads until it feels right, again.

 

The next morning, Isak wakes up alone in his own bed. It’s not something that surprises him because he’s the one to blame about it. He’s the one who told Mads last night he didn’t want to go further than just making out at a party, and then on their way back to the campus, and then on the stairs of the dorm they – _surprise!_ – share. He doesn’t feel bad about it, though. And that’s what makes him feel bad, actually. As messy as that sounds. Because he knows the actual reason why he didn’t go further or, at least, suspects it. And it’s eating him alive.

So, of course, instead of taking a day to come to terms with himself, he decides the best solution it’s to just stop thinking at all and go out with Jonas. Maybe they can have lunch together—or maybe Jonas has already had lunch, according to the clock in his phone. He opens the message app and goes directly to his conversation with Jonas, ignoring the text from Mads (and the one from Even wishing him a good night followed by a bunch of suggestive emoticons).

 **ISAK**  
you alive?  
how about a kebab?

 **JONAS**  
how about a salad. I’m with Noora, stop by the law building

 **ISAK**  
how about no  
jk on my way

He doesn’t even question why Jonas and Noora are grabbing lunch together, not anymore. It felt a bit weird back then in their last month of high school when they started having these long ramblings about Norway’s laws and even international law later, like they were already in college—but hey, then the nerd was Isak, _sure_. They both got accepted into the degree and since day zero they grew even closer.

Maybe it is as weird as his own friendship with Vilde, and he doesn’t even have an answer for that one.

He steps into some sweatpants he finds on the floor and puts on a hoodie sweatshirt that’s lying on the table. He doesn’t even check if they need a wash, but he makes a mental note to tidy his room when he comes back—even though he knows he won’t do it. After grabbing his phone, keys and the snapback he intended to wear last time (because this time there’s no Even around to convince him not to), he leaves the room and steps on the hall. And yeah, that’s the thing, first thing he sees is Even’s door.

It feels weird to be quiet and just look at it. It’s not Even himself yet it feels ominous, like he could feel Isak watching the white wood with the metallic red twenty one on it. So Isak closes the door with all the carefulness he has in him and debates with himself how bad of an idea it would be to just knock to say hi, maybe tease him a bit about the hangover he probably doesn’t even have. He debates with himself if he really wants to do that, even though he knows Even will ask about Mads, even though he might join his lunch plan. And _fuck_ , Isak really wants him to do so. But that’s exactly why he’s going out, isn’t it? He tries to remind himself he’s trying not to think.

So in the end, he walks to the stairs completely alone, goes down them two by two, his heartbeat a bit rushed, but that’s how it always is lately, so maybe it doesn’t have so much to do with Even and maybe he should go and see a doctor. Maybe. When he reaches the front door, though, he has to stop and count to three, what if he’s overreacting? What if he’s making everything weird? Maybe Even would have wanted to meet with Jonas and Noora. No, scratch that. Isak knows Even would love to meet them. He convinces himself it’s too late to tell him, that he would have to redo his steps and that’s too much effort for a hangover. He promises himself he’ll text him later. And then, he leaves the building.

Luckily the Law building is really close to his dorm—which is also probably why Noora picked it to share a room with Eva just two floors under Isak—and the last days of summer allow Isak to enjoy the walk, just focusing on the warmth that tickles his skin rather than on what he shouldn’t focus at all. It feels nice to pretend he doesn’t have a care in the world, he even closes his eyes for a moment and in what feels like just three seconds he can hear Jonas’s laugh in the distance. Isak opens his eyes again, a bit confused for the time lost in that blink but then he sees his friends at a table, Noora with a salad, Jonas with a kebab and another box that according to Isak’s experience with kebabs contains one too.

“There you are!” Noora is the first one to see him and greet him with a big smile before digging the plastic fork again into her salad. “We totally lost sight of you last night, Eva and I were waiting for you two to go back to the dorm. But then Even came and told us you were a lucky guy,” she adds, winking at him and making Jonas snort over his food.

“Uh, yeah. It was just… some guy,” Isak resumes feeling his face heating a bit and plopping down on the same bench as Jonas, taking the unopened box, without even asking about it. He should reward himself once is open and making his mouth water at the sight of a freshly made kebab. “What time did you guys leave? I didn’t saw any of you.”

“Of course you didn’t, you were busy sucking Mads’s face,” Jonas contributes to the cause of making Isak blush even more and Isak really feels the need to kick him under the table. “How is he by the way? You could have brought him, you know? We don’t bite, right Noora?” He glances to the girl who only nods around a bite.

“He slept in his own room which, just so you know, is in our dorm,” Isak clarifies, directing the last part to Noora, but after seeing her lifting her eyebrows and nearly smirking, he starts to regret ever saying anything. “So yep, no Mads to introduce, I’m sorry.”

He’s almost expecting a bit more of teasing, a stupid harmless joke about it, something that’ll make him blush even more and regret ever going out with them now and also last night. He’s almost waiting for it. But that’s the greatest thing about Jonas, he always know how to read Isak’s moods with so little information. Jonas just sends a glance in Isak’s direction, a glance he doesn’t reciprocate but still catches and that’s enough between them. A _your own pace_ unsaid that has been hanging between them their whole lives.

After that, they fall into other topics, Jonas and Noora’s paper, gossip about Vilde with a brunette girl from Eva’s History of Classic Dance class and then a playful argument about who deserves Eva’s custody for the weekend, her best friend or her boyfriend. In the end, they all agree to go to the cinema and Isak receives an invitation too.

 

An hour later they’re quiet, just coexisting with the others. Isak’s on his back, feet under Jonas legs and a hand under his head to prevent it from hurting later due to the stone bench. Noora is writing some notes in a notebook and Jonas simply plays with his phone. It’s not uncomfortable, the silence, and maybe it’s exactly what Isak needed in the first place.

And just because the universe seems to know he’s at ease with the world, it decides to make his phone ring inside the pocket of his sweatshirt. Or maybe that’s excessive, thinking it’s the universe when the name popping in his notifications is Even. He doesn’t think about it, his thumb flies on its own accord to press on it and open the conversation, ignoring the two text from last night.

 **EVEN**  
Is it safe to knock on your door?

 **ISAK**  
if u want to be there forever waiting for me to open it  
then yes

 **EVEN**  
Ouch  
Did that guy kidnap you?

 **ISAK**  
gross and no  
i’m with noora and jonas, be back in a bit

 **EVEN**  
Cool  
Come directly to mine? Netflix and chill?

At that Isak snorts, earning himself a quizzical look from the other two that makes his cheeks turn pink, he just shrugs – or tries to which, giving his current posture, is a bit difficult and looks ridiculous – before going back to typing an answer.

 **ISAK**  
are u trying to tell me smth?  
i’ll be there

Even doesn’t reply back, but Isak doesn’t think too much about it.

 

Not even twenty minutes after he sends the last text, Isak is already excusing himself and heading back to the dorm. He doesn’t says he’s going to Even’s room and the fact that it’s probably the first time he hides something so harmless from them makes him feel like he’s having an affair.

Which, thinking it twice, is not the best comparison if he wants to maintain his natural pale face the way it is. He also tries not to think too much about the fact that it takes him less time to go back to the building than it took him to meet his friends. He blames it on the fact that his hangover is going away and not that he really wants to spend time with Even.

Before Isak realizes it, he’s already facing the white door with the red twenty one. He knocks twice, not even waiting for an answer before opening the door, if Even is really not to be in sight right now… Well, that’s not Isak’s fault – and it wouldn’t be the first time one of them walks into the other at the worst moment. But when the door allows him to see the inside of a room that’s exactly the same as his (just inverted and tidier), Isak sees that Even is just lying on his bed, laptop on his lap and a bowl of (according to the smell) freshly made popcorn.

“Hey,” Isak greets, smiling and closing the door behind him with a soft movement. Then he just stops there for a moment, drinking in the image in front of him. Even looks so soft, his hair down and his sweatpants the same shade of gray as Isak’s. It almost feels silly thinking that he was so scared of this.

Even turns to look at him, the biggest smile on his lips, making his eyes crinkle. “Hey, how are Jonas and Noora?” He asks, because he’s nice like that, not because it’s the polite thing to do but because he really cares about how they are not even twelve hours after seeing them for the last time.

That’s one of the multiple things about Even that makes Isak’s heart feel bigger.

“Good, they were doing some paper or something,” Isak answers, shrugging before noticing his own words and narrowing his eyes at Even, accusingly. “Which reminds me, you _can_ have papers on your third week on college. You liar,” he adds, matter-of-factly.

“They can, you don’t,” Even counters, not even caring about looking at Isak while he does so and just keeps scrolling on his laptop until he stops and moves to the side of the bed until there’s enough space for Isak to sit there too – even if it’s really close to Even. “Come here, fancy a movie? I’ll even let you choose it.”

Isak doesn’t have an option and they both know it, so why try to contradict Even? He opts to just sit down, kick Even’s legs just because he can and grab the laptop while Even grabs the bowl and shoves some popcorn on his mouth, doing the same with Isak’s before he has even swallowed.

“Great decision. I have an amazing taste.” Isak says, popcorn still in his mouth which earns him a playful shove. He just laughs, swallowing and scrolling a bit further until he finds something that looks like _badass action_ , then he adjusts himself and balances the laptop between them, one leg from each boy under it, and presses play.

 

They’re only thirty minutes into the movie when Isak is completely sure Even’s not liking it, and it has nothing to do with the fact that he keeps re-adjusting himself by his side or that he’s not making a single comment about actors, plots or the director. No, it’s just that the film is so bad Isak is starting to regret ever waking up.

It looked like a great option: guns, action, secret agents and based on a videogame they used to play together when Even was still at Nissen. Now, though, Isak is thinking long and hard about punching in the face to whoever created _Hitman: Agent 47_. Still, he doesn’t say anything, he can’t admit in front of Even that he chose a bad movie.

“This movie is shitty,” Even says, successfully reading his mind, as always. But Isak doesn’t answer, just keeps eating popcorn and trying to figure out what the hell is going on inside the screen. “Isak, come on, you haven’t been paying attention for the last ten minutes!” He tries again, even grabbing Isak’s shoulder and making him swing a bit.

But Isak is adamant about not giving up so he shoves his hand away and puts a finger on his lips, telling him to shut up. If he has to go through all the movie just to prove a point, he’ll do it. “ _Isak,_ ” Even calls again, whining this time, and that’s where Isak totally breaks, groaning and closing his eyes.

“Okay, this movie is shitty,” he admits, but before Even can give himself credit for anything, he looks at him dead in the eyes and puts a finger on his arm. “But so are the ones you made me watch last year,” Isak adds, earning a eyeroll from Even—if it makes him smile, Even doesn’t has to know.

Even stops the film, putting the laptop on his bedside and putting an end to their attempt of _netflix and chill_ , and then… Well, then the proximity between their bodies seems ten times smaller, but Isak can’t get himself to put distance between them or even sit on the bed so they won’t be totally and completely touching on their sides.

He just can’t. Or maybe he doesn’t want to.

They just share the air and space, the only light being the one that tries to touch them from underneath the yellow curtains of Even’s window. Isak wonders for a moment why did he choose that color instead of one a bit darker, but it’s probably one of the multiple things that make Even be Even. It’s Even, eventually, who breaks the silence. And Isak’s not sure if he likes it.

“So… how was the night with Mads? Did you… have fun?” He asks, clearing his throat after it and sounding so awkward Isak doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry. Laugh, because his first instinct is to make fun of him; cry, because they’ve never awkward around each other.

In the end, he chooses to give the first option a shot.

“Jesus Christ, you sound like my mamma. No, wait, not even my mother would sound like that,” Isak says, looking at him with the most bored glance he can manage without giving himself too much. Of course, it includes an eye roll before he looks back down at his hands. “It was fine, nothing special. I guess we’ll be awkward around each other for… two classes maybe and then everything will be normal.” He shrugs, to be honest he hasn’t talked with Mads yet but then again he hasn’t made any promises either.

“So you don’t want to repeat it?” When did Even become so tuned with Isak’s mind? When did he stop needing Isak to tell the things he’s not even sure or doesn’t want to acknowledge himself? “Okay, that’s chill,” he adds, voice so tender it makes Isak want to whine. He probably doesn’t deserve Even.

When the silence comes back to the room it’s not alone, he has brought with it a fucking big pink elephant and Isak feels like Dumbo. Or maybe that’s just a stupid comparison. But he can feel it, it’s there, maybe they didn’t really want to talk about _Mads_. Isak doesn’t want to talk about Mads, not with Even, not right now.

But he’s also not sure if he wants to talk about _that_.

“Actually I do wanted to tell you something.” In the end, it’s Even who makes the decision for both of them and Isak’s debating if he hates or loves him for doing it. But he listens, nevertheless, glancing at him. Even is already looking back. “It’s just, this is stupid. We can’t… we’re not like that. It’s not possible that all our friends have talked about it except us.” If he had a single doubt about what they were talking about, now he doesn’t. “So let’s just face it so it doesn’t get in the middle or awkward or, I don’t know.”

Even uses his elbows to props himself up just the tiniest bit, just to be able to properly look at Isak, piercing into his soul through his green eyes. Isak starts to count the seconds, incapable of saying anything or breaking the eye contact between them, the tension and the thin invisible thread connecting them.

When he reaches ten, he copies Even’s position but not even the movement makes him stop looking at Even. Nothing could. When he mentally says the same number that is on Even’s door, Even opens his mouth and talks again. “We were drunk and we made out and that’s it,” he says, nearly whispers.

“Thank fuck God,” Isak breathes, letting go and falling back into the pillow, realizing that he was in fact holding the air in his lungs after Even started to talk. He wants to laugh about it, it feels ridiculous now that it’s there in the clear. “Okay, yeah, we’re so dumb. I feel so dumb.” He covers his eyes with his left arm and his whole body trembles with a silent laugh.

“It was stupid right? Avoiding it like the plague. Mutta was giving me so much shit for it. And Jonas, can you believe Jonas came the very next morning after just to talk about it?” He adds, taking off his arm to look at Even and he’s smiling too, that makes him feel brave enough to keep going, or maybe it’s because the more he talks the less he can think about the bubbles on his belly (or are they butterflies?) “Yeah, like… anyway, can you believe it? They really thought that we… that you and me…” He shakes his head, wanting to release a laugh he doesn’t really feel. In fact, he’s starting to feel sick, his head thinking too fast, his belly feeling hotter. “ _Gross_.”

And honestly, what a fucking lie.

Even seems to think the same, because his head snaps, eyebrows already showing the frown Isak hates so much and his mouth forming a grimace that makes his lips look even fuller.

“You think we wouldn’t like to make out without being drunk?” Even questions, and Isak feels himself blushing. Because he knows half of the answer, _his_ part of the answer, and it’s the furthest thing to a negative, according to the no-filter his mind is implementing.

But Even seems totally oblivious to the color in Isak’s face because he keeps going, pushing further. “Wait, are you implying I’m not the _greatest_ kisser you've ever kissed?” He puts both his hands on his chest with a clearly faked expression of hurt, but Isak still wants to comfort him. “Come here, Valtersen. Let me show you how you should properly kiss a boy!”

The bed is small enough to be a fall threat when they start to playfully fight with each other, tickling and shoving and grabbing limbs and even if Isak knows he’s the strongest between them, he’s also the most ticklish. So in the end it’s not a surprise when he ends up being pinned down by Even, his belly hurting from laughing so much.

“Get off, you giant dork!” Isak demands, laughing and trying to free his hands that are resting now above his head.

But he can’t and a shiver runs through his body when he realizes his sweatshirt has rolled up a bit because of the motion between them. He looks down, seeing the pale trail of skin that leads to the waistband of his sweatpants and then he looks at Even. He’s not looking back, for once. He’s looking exactly at the same point where Isak’s eyes were before.

Isak wants to burst. He thickly swallows and stops moving his arms, just being there and letting Even do whatever he wants. At this point, he’s not sure he cares anymore about anything else. Even looks up, the black of his eyes nearly covering the blue and there’s still enough light to be able to blame that on biology. Slowly, Even lets his weight fall onto Isak’s body like he can’t support himself anymore in that position. Maybe that’s it, maybe Isak shouldn’t read so much into it.

But he wishes. _God_ , he wishes so hard.

The silence settles between them again, the only audible noise being their deep breathes, and it tickles Isak’s entire body, it makes him want to scratch his own skin, or maybe Even’s, maybe merge both and then caress all of it. He wants to say something, to break the thick tension but he’s not exactly sure if that’s what he wants or what he _should_ want. Maybe in the end it doesn’t matter.

Yet he opens his mouth trying to put to work his vocal cords. They don’t cooperate and then it’s just Isak’s mouth agape, probably making him look dumb and stupid. But now not even his muscles are working to allow him to close it.

Or maybe it’s not such a bad idea to have his mouth already open when Even closes the distance between their lips.

It’s sweet and slow and tentative, but also wet and hot and intense. It’s just a touch between their lips yet it feels like someone has started a fire in Isak’s body. It’s overwhelming. And careful. So fucking careful Isak is starting to grow a bit desesperate too. He tries to lift his head enough to deepen the kiss but Even is doing a good job at keeping him pinned down, so he can only wait and feel and try to think. But thinking isn’t working anymore. It feels a little ironic that _this_ is what took him to stop thinking about all of it.

Even breaks the kiss to breathe and the whine that leaves Isak’s mouth should be embarrassing, but that’s another thing he can’t find himself to care about at the moment. Not when Even is piercing his soul with those eyes and looking so wrecked already, not when his whole body is pressing Isak’s against the mattress. He just wants Even to stop thinking so hard and kiss him again until they’re both breathless. And it may be the first time he acknowledges that even to himself, but it doesn’t make it less true.

So when Even loosens up the grips on his wrists and looks like he’s going to say something they’ll both regret later, Isak takes matters into his own hands and pushes them both so he ends up being the one on top. He straddles Even’s body with his legs, feeling how close they are of being a mess against each other, resting his hands over his chest, trying to count Even’s heartbeats and looking at him, just waiting for a sign. Even puts his hands on Isak’s hips, applying the tiniest bit of pressure there and that’s enough for Isak to start kissing him again.

 

“Okay.”

“Isak.”

“Okay.”

“ _Isak_ ,” Even repeats, squeezing Isak’s shoulder, the one he’s grabbing because his arm is behind his body, touching the line of his shoulders and his neck. Yeah, that’s something to pinpoint on his head right now. Yet the new touch makes him feel look up at Even. “It’s the hundredth time you’ve said that.” Isak wants to argue that it’s not, but he’s not so sure anymore. And also he has more interesting things to fix his attention on. “Relax, okay? Just breathe and talk to me.” He takes a deep breath, taking in Even’s face, his collarbone totally exposed, _damn_ , his whole chest is exposed, he knows it, even if he doesn’t dare to look down. “Was it bad? Are you uncomfortable? We don’t –”

Isak gets up just a bit so he can kiss him, successfully making him stop talking. It’s sweet and short, and he doesn’t dare to open his eyes right away. But the movement is enough to remind him of his own state of nudity and make him blush from head to toes.

“Just shut up and let me process this for a moment, okay?” Isak says, voice so so low and soft, nearly a whisper. He opens his eyes, Even’s already looking at him, big bright blue eyes piercing into his soul. “I’m having a hard time digesting the fact that one of the hottest experience in my life has been…” he makes a grimace, trying to find a word that won’t make him blush. But it’s a lost fight and he knows it, “ _grinding_ with my best friend.” He’s having a hard time just with looking at him, if he’s being honest. “So just…”

He leaves the sentence incomplete and goes down to his previous position but a bit closer to Even this time, making their bodies touch all along their sides. Even doesn’t move, doesn’t let go of him, in fact, he tightens his grip around his shoulder a bit.

“You were also having a _hard_ time before,” Even says, and Isak feels more than hears the way he’s trying to contain a laugh, so of course he has to look at him again with his grumpiest face, the one that says _i’m zero point five seconds away from murdering you_ . And it seems to work, because Even uses his free hand to fake a zipper on his mouth. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry! _Geez_ , so sensible,” he adds, after Isak has softened his look on him (even though he’s not sure when that happened) “But I’m pretty sure Jonas would be offended if he ever finds out you called _me_ your best friend.”

“What are we?” Isak asks, looking up at Even from behind his eyelashes. Even's frowning like he hasn’t heard Isak. Maybe he hasn’t with how low his voice was. “If we’re not best friends, what are we?”

“I don’t know, maybe we’ve reached the category of friends with benefits,” Even answers, but the smile on his lips tells Isak he’s just messing with him, so he rolls his eyes and almost misses the way Even frowns again. And _God_ , Isak really wants to reach out and smooth the skin between his eyebrows. “I don’t like how that sounds, though.”

“Why not?” Isak asks at the same time that Even starts to card a hand through his curls, soothing him and making him want to melt. It should be awkward to feel so good so soon, to want nothing more than to lean into him and sleep totally snuggled in the crock of Even’s neck and an arm around his waist.

“Because it feels like first came the benefits and then the friends part. And you’ll always be my friend, above everything,” Even whispers and he does lean into Isak, hugging him a bit tighter and leaving a kiss on his forehead. Maybe that’s what gives Isak the courage to say what’s on his mind.

“So we’re just Isak and Even?”

“We’re just Isak and Even.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three will be up soon! I'm so sorry it's not here yet but life got in the middle!


End file.
